Debt Daddy - Burnin' Down the Box

Well, we have done the unthinkable...that which must never be mentioned....the beast with seven consequences....

We borrowed from our 401k account.


Okay, that's done it - the remainder of Dave Ramsey's hair just fell out in frustration over my blatant disregard for his rules. I know, I know - in Dave's world, borrowing from my 401k is almost as bad as sleeping with my sister, forcing her to have my baby and naming it Adolf Mussolini.

And yet, I'm just not seeing it that way.

I've had several major bills come in recently - between the life insurance, property tax installment and the dreaded, completely overpriced school tax, I was looking at payments totalling close to $12,000 - that's not even including all the regular monthly bills on top of that. Could I have worked day and night to make that money? Yes. Would I have made my nut? Hmmm....you might, rabbit, you might. Was borrowing from the 401k to take care of those payments the best choice? Maybe, maybe not - I am, after all, robbing my own retirement fund, taking from tomorrow to pay for today (and yesterday, and the day before, etc.). But (and here's the question that decided it for me), how much will you enjoy your tomorrows if you work so hard that you die today?

Today is all we have. Tomorrow is not ever guaranteed and, while we're on the subject, neither are the funds in a 401k or pension or any other retirement account - the value goes up, goes down, and sometimes disappears completely. However, the interest that your credit card company charges is always guaranteed - Visa isn't going to suddenly drop your interest rate from 22% to 3.9% because of volatility on the DOW exchange. So, while we have made good returns on the majority of our investments, and we'll miss those returns on a portion of funds for the time being, the fact remains that I'll have enough left over from this loan to pay off a few thousand dollars worth of credit card debt that's currently charging 18%. Meanwhile, I'm paying back that 401k money at an interest rate of 8.75 %, and that interest is being paid - to me. If I don't pay the loan off sooner, I will have, by the final payment, paid myself $3,783.20 in interest. Frankly, I'd much rather that I get that interest rather than Bank of America or Chase or Citibank or....you get my point. So, sorry Dave, I've been thinking outside the box again and, in my bizarre little mind, this just makes sense.

Thinking outside the box is not always easy. There are some pretty scary nasties on the outside of that box, which is why the box was built in the first place - to give us a comfort zone where we might feel safe and warm and cozy. The problem is, we don't have very much to do with the actual building of the box. Our parents, advertising and marketing companies, the government, teachers - they built our box - their values, mores and beliefs form the walls, floor and ceiling. I have a friend who, for the purposes of this entry and to protect her anonymity, I shall refer to as "Chamomile". Chamomile's parents lived through part of the Great Depression, and this of course has greatly colored her world view, especially in the case of financial matters. So much so that she will often say, "I am a child of the Depression". Now, unless the depression was still going on during the Kennedy Administration, that just ain't true. Doesn't matter; it's in her head - it's the mantra she heard, and the mantra she recites. She didn't build that box, but she's decorated it quite tastefully in the style of the times (which would be the late 1920's).

We've all got our boxes. Believe me, Debt Daddy's box would make your head spin in it's strange amalgam of outdated and often contradictory beliefs. Over the years, I've questioned many of those beliefs and values, leaving dents and sometimes complete holes punched in the walls of my box. The last real solid wall I had was the one entitled, "Thou shalt not borrow from thine 401k - to do so means financial ruin and a daily diet of cat food in your golden years". I stared at that wall for a long time and finally noticed the fine print at the bottom - "This wall manufactured by the banks and financial institutions that use your retirement contributions for decades and who are intent on scaring the bejesus out of you so that you NEVER consider taking away this free source of revenue."

A low growl emanates from deep in Debt Daddy's throat. "Damned banks". In a fit of rage, Debt Daddy charges at that filthy, misleading wall and hurls himself into it. The aged plaster and lathe shatters as he explodes through the wall of his now ramshackle box, landing in a heap on the outside. He finds himself on a vast white sand beach, illuminated by more stars than he thought it possible for the sky to hold. Breathless, he gasps for air and staggers to his feet. The air outside feels clean and fresh, not poisonous like "THEY" said it would be, and a pleasant change from the stale, odorous atmosphere of the box. The Box. An evil gleam flashes in Debt Daddy's eyes. "What this scene needs is a fire", he thinks to himself. Quick as a flash, before he can think twice, he yanks his Zippo from his pocket, rolls the starter across his jeans and tosses the now flaming object into the middle of the box. It ignites immediately, and he sits before the building blaze, chuckling to himself about the sage platitudes that covered its walls -

"A leased vehicle is the Best way to go!"

"What will people think??"

"Ya gotta buy up all the Lucent stock you can....and hold onto it!"

"What you need is a real job in a stable company - like Enron!"

Those and countless others turn to ember and ash, as the box collapses to the ground, it's flames dancing in the night wind. And, although he's sure it's not what the builders had in mind, as he sits before his burning box, now a massive bonfire on the beach, the ashes of preconception, misconception and deception gently floating into an endless night sky full of equally endless possibilities...

He feels Safe.

And Warm.

And Cozy.